


We're in Retrograde

by bry0psida



Series: Harringrove Advent [9]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Conflict Resolution, Established Relationship, M/M, One Shot, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21731170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bry0psida/pseuds/bry0psida
Summary: Billy and Steve pick out a Christmas tree. Angst ensues.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove
Series: Harringrove Advent [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558885
Comments: 5
Kudos: 83





	We're in Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t stop writing Christmas angst I’m so sorry y’all. Title taken from a line in Roddy by Djo (Joe Keery.) If you haven’t listened, you’re sorely missing out.

Steve was excited to go pick a tree, no, he was _ecstatic_. It’s their first Christmas together in their own apartment and they’ve gone all out. Billy didn’t get what was wrong with a plastic tree having never had the real thing, whereas Steve’s _only_ had the real thing and refuses to settle for less.

Given how reluctant he was to spend the extra money, it’s a bit of a shock that he’s spent over an hour scrutinising their options. At first Steve put it down to scarcity mindset. Billy’s frugal, it’s just his way. That theory is blown out of the water when Steve puts out to Billy that he’s lingering by the more expensive options, and Billy just answers with a quiet ‘I know.’

Steve’s pretty done with the whole thing. As long as it’s green and not missing too many branches he’s good. He has no idea what the fuck Billy is doing. So he asks.

“Billy, what the fuck are you doing?”

Billy doesn’t look at him when he replies, gaze slowly sliding back and forth between the Blue and Norway Spruces. “…Thinking.”

“Which do you like best?”

“Don’t know.”

“Which do you like least?”

“Don’t know.”

Steve sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

“What does your family usually get?”

“The green one.”

Billy blinks at him. “They’re all green.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, you’re no help.”

Steve scoffs, incredulous. “ _I’m_ no help? We’re here to pick a fucking tree Bill, not a house! What is taking so long?”

Billy flinches at the snap. Steve’s anger redirects inwards. _Fucking idiot, Harrington_ , Steve thinks.

“I’m sorry. Just-just get whatever.” He turns to leave, Steve calls out to him. “I’ll wait in the car,” Billy replies.

Steve watches him go, feels self loathing run rampant. He rests his forehead against a post for a good thirty seconds, calls himself every shitty thing he can think of. He settles on a White Fir and arranges for it to be delivered, pays in cash.

Billy is smoking in the car, Steve can hear Is This Love by Whitesnake playing softly through the open window. The irony isn’t lost on Steve. He lets himself in. Billy doesn’t acknowledge his presence.

“I got the White Fir, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yep.”

Steve sighs again, starts the car. The drive home is silent save for Whitesnake.

Billy’s out of the car before Steve even finishes parking outside the complex. He’s out the door again by the time Steve reaches their apartment. “Billy, where are you going?” Billy doesn’t answer, takes the stairs two at a time. “Billy!”

“Out!” He calls back.

Steve doesn’t see him till ten, dinner long cold and scraped into the trash.

“Where have you been?” Steve asks. “I was worried.”

Billy tosses his keys into the little dish they set aside for miscellaneous crap by the front door. “Out,” He replies.

“Is that the extent of your vocabulary now?”

Billy ignores Steve, heads for the kitchen. Steve follows him, exasperated. “Will you please talk to me?” Billy holds up a finger, guzzling egg nog straight from the carton. “This shit was cute when we were teens, Billy. It’s not so cute at twenty.”

Billy looks at him with a little milkstache, shrugs. “Don’t know what there is to talk about. You wanted a real tree, we got a real tree.”

Steve closes his eyes, breathes slowly and tries to summon more of his rapidly deteriorating patience. “How long do you plan on keeping this up?”

“Till you say sorry.” Steve does. Billy blinks, bewildered. Then he laughs a little. “What?” Steve asks.

“I forget it’s that easy with you, sometimes.”

“What’s that easy?”

“Just…being in a relationship.”

Steve reaches for Billy’s hand. “C’mon, let’s talk on the couch or something.” Billy lets him take it and follows.

Steve sits, pats the space beside him. Billy sinks down slow, still skittish.

“I’ll start, shall I?” Billy nods. “I got impatient, which is fair, but I snapped at you, which wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

Billy’s eyes are on the novelty PacMan clock he found at a garage sale last week. “Okay.”

“Look at me, baby.” Steve prods gently. Billy does so reluctantly. Steve sees residual fear in his eyes. “What happened today, where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I just drove.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Billy huffs. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to you seeing right through me.”

“You’re stalling, Bill.”

Billy cracks a small smile. “You did that on purpose.”

Steve grins back. “So did you.”

Billy takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “When…when you snapped at me, it took me right back to Neil’s shitty little house in Hawkins.”

“I thought it might have.” Steve rubs a tentative hand up and down Billy’s back. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, but I probably should.”

Steve agrees. “Probably.”

“I don’t know what there is to say. He’s an abusive piece of shit all year round, Christmas was never an exception. Mom always asked me to pick the decorations ‘cause she liked everything, and being a kid it meant more to me than it did to her. She always liked what I got, Neil always had a bone to pick no matter what I did. Bastard didn’t even like Christmas, don’t know what the fuck his problem was.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Steve says softly.

Billy’s lips twitch before curling into a sad smile. “I know. He kind of ruined Christmas for me, well, he ruined all the holidays.” Billy turns to look at Steve, eyes shining. “You’ve given them back to me, though.” Steve’s heart throbs in his chest, mouth twisting into the grimace he adopts when he’s trying not to cry.

“I didn’t give a shit about the tree until we were there,” Billy says. “Didn’t see the point in spending extra money just to have to vacuum everyday. But you get so excited it’s infectious. I felt like a kid again, scrutinising the best decorations. Mom always let me take my time.”

“And Neil didn’t.”

“Yeah. He only came shopping the one time, but he was bad enough to ruin the whole experience. Every year after that I was so jumpy in the store, I couldn’t focus. Mom ended up picking all the decorations. Neil knew and he still reamed me for it.”

Steve sighs. “Shit.”

Billy continues. “You should’ve said you were getting bored, or impatient, or whatever. You should have told me you didn’t mind which tree we got, long as it was real. I just wanted to get it right, Steve.”

Billy starts crying then. Steve guides Billy’s head to the crook of his neck, runs his fingers through Billy’s short hair. “You’re right, baby. I’m so sorry. I never wanna be like him, I never wanna scare you like that.”

“You’re not,” Billy promises. “You don’t.”

“I did today, though.”

Billy sniffs. “It’s okay, Steve. Just don’t do it again.”

“Never,” Steve says. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't go over this one with a fine tooth comb, but I think it turned out alright. 
> 
> [Tumblr](https://bry0psidawrites.tumblr.com) [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bryopsida)


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